


Gentle Spite

by StagsInSilence



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angry Will Graham, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Drunk Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serial Killer Will Graham, Will makes a mess that Hannibal doesn't like, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 16:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagsInSilence/pseuds/StagsInSilence
Summary: Will messes up on a hunt and Hannibal isn't pleased.





	Gentle Spite

Hannibal Lecter smirked to himself as he ate alone at the long, dark table in the ornate dining room of the latest house he occupied. As always, he was pleased with the food he had prepared, although his reasonable mood was beginning to slip the longer he sat in solitude. Turning to the empty place setting to his right, the small smirk turned into a mildly perturbed expression. Will Graham had gone out early that morning and had still not yet returned. Hannibal doubted that any major issues had arisen as he had not received any calls from the authorities nor had the news provided any information about Will. Despite his annoyance, Hannibal continued to eat before rising and taking his plate along with Will’s untouched one into the kitchen. Will would eat later should he be hungry. 

Rolling up his sleeves into tidy cuffs around his elbows, Hannibal set about cleaning the dishes he had used in preparation for dinner. It wasn’t too long after he started, that he heard the front door bang against the wall of the foyer and his mouth twitched into a brief frown. Will was more than aware of how everything ran in the house, and mistreating the building itself was on the list of things not permitted. Something must be wrong if Will was disregarding his own promises of understanding, and Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel as he moved quietly from the kitchen towards the foyer to see what the commotion was.

As he stood silently in the doorway, he watched as Will slammed the door closed and kicked off his boots. The other man was soaked through and dripping all over the foyer rug. Mixed in with the mud, Hannibal was not entirely sure if it was only water Will was dripping all over the floor and he pursed his lips at his filthy lover.

“You missed dinner,” Hannibal said coolly, causing Will to spin around and send water flying off of his hair like a wet dog. Will ran a hand through his hair and Hannibal noticed that it was a combination of rain, mud, and blood that coated him. “And,” Hannibal continued, “you are a mess.”

Will growled in his throat, “It started raining.”

“I can see that, Will.”

“And there was a problem," Will glared.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“The police showed up in the middle. I barely had time to finish.” Will reached down towards the ball of his coat on the floor and pulled out a plastic bio-hazard bag containing what Hannibal identified as a set of kidneys. He held the bag out for Hannibal who made a face as he took it.

“They’re squished, Will. I told you to bring the proper equipment.”

Will growled again, “I could just let you go fucking hungry.”

Hannibal frowned again as Will pushed past him and stormed off into the kitchen. Hannibal followed quickly, “The tension in your shoulders is unnatural, Will. Tell me what happened.”

Will ignored him, instead tearing through the liquor cabinet and digging in the back for his whiskey. Hannibal knew he wasn’t going to find it, as he had removed the cheap liquor the previous night when Will had finished most of it in one sitting. Their lives together had been going on for more than a year now, and Hannibal felt it necessary to get Will’s drinking habit under control.

“Will.”

“Where did you put the whiskey?”

“Down the drain,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your drinking has begun to get in the way of your behavior and professional skill, Will. Now if you are quite finishing dripping filth on the clean floor, I recommend you clean yourself up.”

Hannibal moved cautiously towards Will, who continued to glare into the cabinet, and placed a gentle hand on the other man’s wet shoulder. Will shrugged it off violently as he turned around to face Hannibal with fire in his eyes. He had already been drinking. If the anger did not give it away, Hannibal was now able to smell it on his breath.

“Will –“

“Shut up,” Will hissed. “You don’t know shit.”

“I know you have already been drinking, I know you are upset about something – perhaps you ran into someone tonight that has set you off, I know you will catch a cold if you do not dry off soon, and I know you are making a mess in the kitchen.”

Hannibal flinched only slightly as Will slapped him across the face.

“You. Don’t. Know.  _ Shit _ .” 

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed as they held Will’s glare. Without breaking eye contact, he wiped at the mess that was beginning to run down his cheek from where Will’s hand had made contact. He brushed away the runny dirt, keeping his face neutral apart from the fury growing in his eyes. “This is getting tiresome, Will,” he said, moving closer to Will in order to force the smaller man against the counter. “This behavior is unbecoming. Childish.” He reached up and grabbed Will’s throat, squeezing just enough to make his point clear as he leaned in inches from Will’s face, “Enough is quite enough, now please see to it that you get cleaned up.”

Hannibal released him and stepped back, moving towards the sink to wash the grime from his hands. Behind him Will was quiet, but the shifting of his weight was clear in Hannibal’s ears. 

“Is there something you wish to say, Will?”

“It isn’t his,” Will said, and Hannibal turned around to see him leaning awkwardly against the counter. “The blood. It’s mine.”

Hannibal’s brow furrowed in what Will sarcastically referred to as ‘doctor mode’, and he quickly returned to Will’s side. “Why didn’t you say something when you came in?”

Will rolled his eyes as Hannibal went about giving him a once over to check where the severe wounds were placed. Nothing appeared fatal, but one rather nasty cut ran across one of Will’s ribs in a place Hannibal knew would be incredibly painful until healed. 

“Washroom. Now.”

Will stayed put, “You’re not stitching me up sober.”

“I will not stand by while you slowly bleed out on my kitchen floor.”

“ _ Your _ ?”

Hannibal refused to justify Will’s attitude with a response and simply rolled his sleeves farther up his arms. Eventually, the judgmental staring got to him and Will reached back into the liquor cabinet to grab the first bottle of wine he could reach.

“Get the fucking corkscrew,” he grumbled, storming past Hannibal once again and up the stairs to the bathroom.

With a sigh, Hannibal looked around at the muddy, bloody mess of the counter where Will had been before he did, in fact, grab the corkscrew and one of  _ many  _ self-made first aid kits. Appropriate tools in hand, Hannibal made his way up to the bathroom.

 

 

Will winced as he painfully removed the tatters of both his flannel and undershirt. He cursed under his breath at the corked wine bottle sitting on the counter of the sink. He knew he was being rude to Hannibal but he was angry that he got stabbed. He was angry he was rushed. And above all else, Will was furious that the cops were there. He froze when the red and blue lights lit up the area around, and the panic in his chest was embarrassing. More embarrassing was that his moment of fear had given that night’s victim the chance to fight back. Will had promptly slit his throat after establishing that nothing was fatal, and he had chugged the flask in his coat pocket to steady his trembling hands, but it was barely enough to take the edge off. Maybe that’s why he was acting out. He wasn’t drunk. But he wasn’t sober enough to know how to properly hide his nerves. 

He looked up when he heard Hannibal’s soft footsteps on the landing and waited for the door to swing open. When it did, Hannibal did not look pleased. His eyes betrayed him around Will, and tonight they were disappointed, concerned, and most certainly annoyed. Will looked at the floor, waiting for a lecture. It didn’t come, but Will looked up when he heard the soft pop of the cork.

“If you must,” Hannibal said, passing the bottle to Will. 

Will nodded slightly and took the bottle, tipping his head back while taking a long swig. It was too sweet – Will  _ definitely  _ preferred the burn of hard liquor – but it was tolerable and probably too expensive to waste now. 

Hannibal then set about opening his med kit and seeing to the nasty gash at Will’s side. He worked in silence and Will was thankful for that as he drank and winced at the stitches. Sometimes, it surprised  _ both  _ of them that Will still winced at the prick of the sewing needle. One would think after induced encephalitis, blood work, and the dozens of stitches Will had needed post-dragon slaying, he would be immune to the little prick of pain if he felt it at all. Hannibal chalked it up to a psychological fear that made Will roll his eyes, and intentionally missed his mark while he had once been stitching up Hannibal, at the mention of it.

“You are utterly filthy, Will,” Hannibal said at last. “I have finished stitching the wound, but I cannot properly cover it until you have cleaned up.”

Will nodded and went to stand, but the wine had gone straight to his head and he wobbled instantly before Hannibal forced him to sit back down on the edge of the tub. 

“Perhaps a bath would be more suitable.”

Will nodded again as Hannibal pushed back mud-stiffened hair from his sweaty and scraped forehead. The gentle touch of the soft pads of Hannibal’s fingers over Will’s face were the complete opposite of how he touched Will during their brief spat in the kitchen. Hazel eyes scanned over his bare chest, pausing to examine old scars as well as minor injuries of the night, and then moved down to Will’s pants where those gentle finger dropped to remove them so Will could remain seated on the tub. 

Naked and chilled, Will set down the mostly empty bottle of wine and waited as Hannibal left his immediate side to turn on the tap of their large soaker tub. He closed his eyes once the room began to spin and was unsure of how much time had passed before he felt those soft fingers again. They danced over his back, coaxing him to his feet before gripping his hands to help him stand and turn to climb into the warm water of the bath.

Will stretched out his legs as he sunk into the water and leaned his head back against the ceramic. His eyes remained closed as he listened to Hannibal shuffle about the small room, going through cabinets for the right shampoos and to fetch towels that could handle bloodstains. Soon those skillful hands were at Will’s temples, carefully guiding the water over his crusting hair to remove as much of the drying mud as possible before he added the shampoo. Will felt his face warm up, but was unsure if that was from the intimacy of the bathroom or the wine, but had a feeling it might be something of a combination. 

Hannibal moved as if music was playing, carefully working the shampoo into every fibre of Will’s hair. His skilled fingers massaged his scalp and danced about just as if they were effortlessly skimming across the keys of his beloved harpsichord. Will was starting to wonder if he was  _ actually  _ hearing things as a familiar melody softly played in the back of his head and matched perfectly in time with the movements of Hannibal’s fingers. Behind his lids he pictured Hannibal playing his favourite of arias, those strong hands moving gracefully back and fourth across the wood smoothed to an almost stone-like texture from use. Those hands were so unlike his own. They were soft and mostly unscathed, only a few minor scars from so much work in the kitchen and brawls from his youth. Will’s hands were an abundance of callouses and messy scars, rough and weathered. 

Warm water poured over Will’s head again and he let out a soft sigh as the pain of his body slowly began to slip away. Unconsciously he let his body slide down the ceramic wall of the tub and into the water until its surface was at his chin. 

“Now, now, Will,” Hannibal chided. “We can’t have you drowning in blood-filled water.”

“I thought that would be a turn on for you.”

Hannibal chuckled lightly, “Perhaps another time. Preferably when it is not your blood that fills our tub.”

“Talk dirty to me.”

Will didn’t need to be looking at Hannibal to know he rolled his eyes. “Sarcasm is also unbecoming of you, Will.”

“Sorry that I don’t have your skills in verbose come backs.”

They slipped into silence once more as Hannibal dipped a sponge into the water and rung it out before shifting to sit on the edge of the tub at Will’s side to gently clear his skin of more filth. Will’s head drooped from side to side as the sponge moved across his chest and down his sides, Hannibal being especially gentle around the newly stitched up wound. The room had stopped spinning and all Will could feel was the warmth of the soapy water around him and the soothing touches of the sponge. He opened his eyes and studiously observed Hannibal at work. He was still every bit the doctor he originally trained to be. 

“Hannibal,” he said softly, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes, Will?”

Will shifted in the tub and stretched his neck to place a tender kiss on the older man’s lips. Hannibal stiffened for a moment in surprise but quickly relaxed and returned the kiss with just as much sweetness. It was this Hannibal that Will was finding himself attracted to. The Hannibal that was capable of being human. It made Will feel better about his own humanity and that it did, in fact, still exist. 

Hannibal pulled away first, “You are still drunk, Will.”

“Your point being what, exactly?”

“You need to rest so that wound can heal.”

“It can heal later.”

Hannibal sighed, his hands falling away from Will and ringing out the sponge, “Now is hardly the time for sex, Will.”

“Is it ever  _ the time  _ when it comes to us, Hannibal?” 

Their eyes met and Hannibal couldn’t help but mimic the smirk on Will’s face. He had to admit that Will was right. Hannibal stood and placed the sponge in the sink before drying his hands. Will watched intently as those hands moved over the buttons on his waistcoat, popping each of them out slowly, and then again they moved to do the same with this dress shirt. The wait was more agonizing than the stab wound at his ribs as Will watched Hannibal carefully fold the clothing and set it down on the counter. Will knew he had won, but Hannibal had the power.

“Why bother folding when they need to be cleaned anyway?” Will was too intoxicated to hide his impatience.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Will over his shoulder, “You hardly have the right to be demanding things after your earlier behavior, Will. Intoxication is not an excuse and I feel you need to be reminded of your place.”

“Is that a threat,  _ Dr. Lecter _ ?”

Will knew the tone he had used only during appointments, back when their game was played in a different manner, was the greatest weapon he had. The greatest point of leverage.

“Well?”

Hannibal raised his chin, standing straighter before he stalked over to the bathtub. He moved like a lion ready to go in for the kill, and Will sat up in the tub, bringing his knees up to make room. Hannibal gracefully climbed over the lip of the tub and sat on his haunches before he reached forward to pull Will over to his side of the tub. “Carefully, Will. It would be a shame to further bloody the tub by ripping open those stitches.”

Will did as instructed, moving slowly as he allowed himself to be brought over to rest between Hannibal’s legs. Hannibal waited for Will to get comfortable before he brought a gentle hand to his chin, lifting it so Will’s lips were just where they needed to be to be properly captured in a kiss. Hannibal’s lips moved over Will’s in a dance similar to how he had washed the mud from his hair. Slow but paced and calculated. While they kissed, Will let his hands rest on Hannibal’s chest, fingers absently toyed with the greying chest hair, and Hannibal cupped Will’s cheek while his other hand rested on a slender hip. Will had been so hesitant to kiss Hannibal in the first few weeks of their new lives together, but eventually he had grown accustomed to the idea and comfortable enough with himself to let down his guard. Kissing Hannibal was no more different than kissing anyone else when it came to the action itself. However, the emotion behind their kisses was more intense than anything Will had experienced before.

This kiss was no different than any other, and it was as if Will could  _ taste  _ the disappointment on Hannibal’s tongue as the heat began to grow between them. 

“Hannibal,” Will breathed before Hannibal captured the rest of the sentence in his mouth.

“No, Will,” Hannibal whispered back, voice low and sultry. “No more words.” 

“Hanni–“ 

Hannibal silenced Will’s protest with a kiss before pulling away and shushing him. “Lie back, Will,” he murmured. “It will be less of a strain.”

Carefully, Hannibal moved so Will could lie back against the wall of the tub again, the warm water sloshed around them with the movement. Will winced slightly at the awkwardness of it all, as it had pulled at the stitches uncomfortably and made him yearn for more whiskey. He let his eye close once more as he willed himself through the discomfort and let his mind focus solely on Hannibal’s feather-like kisses at his collarbone. Will felt his breath catch at the warm tongue that trailed across his skin and gentle lips curved into a pleased smile.

“Not so demanding anymore, are you, Will? Shame.”

Will gave a half-hearted growl, “Looking for a challenge?”

“More-so a better reason to put you in your place.”

Will cocked an eyebrow, “Or you could just stop being pretentiously focused on ulterior motives and just have sex with me, Hannibal.” Will pulled Hannibal down, tangling his fingers in his hair as their lips came together again. 

Hannibal pressed against Will, chest to chest, and let a hand wander carefully between them. The feelings of strong fingers at his entrance made Will’s breathing hitch and he deepened the kiss in an attempt to keep his command of the situation. It was a short-lived command, however, as he gasped when Hannibal had managed to get one of his fingers all the way in. The man regarded Will with calculating eyes, carefully watching for even slightest hint of discomfort or pain.

Will’s eyes closed again as he shifted to get more out of the sensation, a silent and more dignified way of asking for more. Hannibal satisfied the request with the addition of another finger as he worked Will slowly open. The soft noise of the water and Will’s increasingly heavy breathing the only sounds in the room.

Hannibal turned his head and kissed along Will’s neck, feather light and teasing as Will’s hands came up around his back to clutch at strong and defined shoulder muscles. Will made a strained noise, and it was the sign that he was ready to move forward. Shifting between his legs, Hannibal removed his fingers agonizingly slowly before replacing their prescience with that of his cock.

Will’s head fell back against the tub with a moan and his grip on Hannibal tightened as his body trembled. 

Hannibal nuzzled against Will’s jaw line, just beneath his ear. “Shhh,” he whispered and thrust his hips forward, earning a soft cry from Will. “Just relax.”

Will’s world was spinning again as his breathing settled and Hannibal started in his steady pace, making Will’s back arch more and more with every thrust. His own cock twitched and he pulled Hannibal closer in hopes of finding friction that would relieve some of the pressure. Instead he got a chuckle from above as Hannibal captured his lips again, muffling the groan pulled from deep in Will’s chest as his prostate was brushed.

Hannibal barely suppressed a groan of his own as Will clenched around him. He was always so tight, so warm, and Hannibal often found it difficult to make it last. There was just something about Will that made it hard to last.

“Faster,” Will breathed.

Hannibal complied, pace building up with each thrust of his hips. Sweat began to form across his skin and Will licked at the drops along his neck and jaw, chuckling while Hannibal failed to suppress a throaty moan of his own. Of course, the chuckle was cut short as Hannibal hit Will’s prostate with some force and the man cried out.

As Will trembled Hannibal shifted above him so he could hold himself up with one hand while the other clutched at Will’s throat. His grip was tight and merciless as his pace slowed once again. When he spoke, his was voice low and commanding, “I’m still very cross with you, Will. You’ve been something of a ‘bad dog’ tonight.” He punctuated “bad dog” with a sharp snap of his hips and Will whimpered slightly. “You made a mess into the kitchen, you’re obnoxiously drunk, you insist on taking charge when you do not deserve the position. Especially tonight of nights.”

Will glared up at him trying to get Hannibal to pick his pace up again. His own erection was getting painful, but he dared not to touch it without Hannibal’s explicit say-so.

“My dear, Will,” Hannibal continued, “You like to think that my adoration of what you have become means you can get away with sloppy work.”

“Because I  _ can _ ,” Will choked.

And then like that,  _ everything _ was gone. 

Hannibal rose from the tub, his grip gone from Will’s throat. Completely unaware of what he was doing, Will made a noise of protest that came out much like a whine.

“You see, Will,” Hannibal said, toweling himself off, “all I have done has been for you. Even this. It is disappointing to see that you are no different than a spoiled child.”

Will tried to stand in the tub, but swayed on his feet and fell forward. Not completely uncaring, Hannibal caught him and brushed the damp hair from his forehead.

“Don’t make me regret my decisions, Will.”

A long, quiet, moment passed, as Will struggled to regain his footing, but managed with Hannibal’s help. “I’m sorry.”

Hannibal pursed his lips, voice like velvet as he asked, “Are you truly?”

“Yes.”

His grimace turned into something of a smirk as he placed a feather light kiss to Will’s lips. “May we continue without further incident?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Turn around.”

Will did as he was told, and turned, bending over the wall of the tub, ass in the air. He could feel Hannibal’s warmth behind him as the hands he adored so much caressed his back. The pads of his fingers as gentle as a butterfly landing on a flower. 

“What do you want, Will?”

“You,” Will breathed, feeling Hannibal’s cock against him once again.

“And what will you do to have me?”

“Whatever you want.”

Hannibal’s fingers grabbed a handful of Will’s curled and tugged sharply, “Will you give yourself to me completely?”

“Yes.”

“Will you follow my every word?”

“Yes.”

“Will you adore me as I adore you?”

“Yes,” Will breathed this final affirmation as his voice melted into a moan, as Hannibal was once again deep inside of him. 

The pace was instantly brutal and their bathroom was soon filled with their voices and the slap of their bodies. 

“H-hannibal,” Will begged, “I… I need…”

Hannibal knew precisely what Will needed, and snaked his free hand around Will’s hips to firmly grasp his cock. The relief of being touched at long last had Will crying out his pleasure, and his knuckles went white as he clutched desperately at the wall of the tub he was bent over. Hannibal’s hand worked him effortlessly as his cock continued to ram into him. Will began to tremble, his knees feeling week as his stomach tightened along with his balls. He was so close.

“ _ Fuck _ , Hannibal,” he swore, as Hannibal leaned over him and kissed at his shoulder blades. 

A soft thumb rubbed over the slit of his cock, and Will was gone, blowing his load all down the side of the tub and coating Hannibal’s hand. He shuddered violently, his asshole clamping down around Hannibal’s cock as he continued to thrust into Will. Will’s cries were utterly incoherent as Hannibal only lasted a few moments more before cumming deep inside of his lover.

Their bodies tense and trembling, the two men remained bent over the tub as they regained their breath. Hannibal was the first to recover – he always was – and stood, letting himself slip free of Will. It took Will a moment more before he could stand. His whole body felt hyper sensitive as Hannibal’s seed dripped down his legs and his cock softened. 

He turned slowly to face Hannibal, who was smirking at him. Words weren’t needed as he held out his hand to Will. Will brought Hannibal’s hand to his lips and licked at the cum that coated it. He sucked on each finger carefully, pressing kisses to the tips. When Hannibal was satisfied, he cupped Will’s cheek and kissed him tenderly.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I posted this before but I can't quite remember so whatever. Here it is again because I want to write new Hannibal stuff but also want to clear out all the old stuff.


End file.
